On the Path to the Great Dao-Chapter 7: Rustic Divinity vs. Imperial Law

All eyes were fixed on the ancient elm tree in the center of the village.
It was clear that Liu Zexi’s self-sacrifice wasn’t just about hanging himself from the tree. His final thoughts wouldn’t have been for peace and prosperity, but for revenge.
Revenge against those who had pushed him to such despair.
Lacking the strength to exact revenge himself, he offered himself as a sacrificial gift to the powerful godmother, hoping she would avenge him.
And the targets of his revenge were now standing here—the constables of Xinxing County.
Chen Shi glanced at the shrine beneath the tree. Inside, the young girl continued to quietly enjoy the offerings, completely indifferent to the commotion outside.
The head constable, however, couldn’t see the girl. His eyes remained fixed on the ancient elm as he sneered. “If the godmother plans to avenge Liu Zexi, she will be defying the Xinxing County Office and, by extension, the Great Ming Empire! Let me remind you: rustic divinity is no match for imperial law. If Ming decrees it, we’ll cut down the godmother and burn her to the ground! Without her protection, this village will be left exposed to the Evil Ones, and no one will escape their wrath!”
Chen Shi’s heart trembled. How dare this constable openly threaten the village’s godmother?
He looked back at the little girl in the shrine, who continued nibbling on the offerings, seemingly unbothered by the threats.
“Of course,”
Chen Shi thought.
“Avenging Liu Zexi or protecting the other villagers—any godmother would know which is more important.”
The head constable, seeing no response from the ancient elm tree, smirked and asked, “Liu Zexi is dead, but that doesn’t exempt him from taxes. The law is clear. What about his family? Where are they?”
A villager hesitantly replied, “He had no one left. He used to have a son and a daughter—the daughter was sold off, and the son drowned while bathing in the river. His wife lost her mind after everything that happened. One day, she wandered out of the village singing and dancing and never came back. She’s probably dead too.”
The constable pondered this for a moment, then waved his hand. “Let bygones be bygones. We won’t pursue past grievances. But the taxes must still be paid. Go to Liu Zexi’s house and bring out anything of value. It’ll have to do.”
The constables swarmed into Liu Zexi’s home, but the place was pitifully barren—nothing but bare walls. They managed to scrounge up a few pots and pans, which they took, hoping to fetch some money for them.
The head constable shook his head at the meager haul. “Truly unfortunate. This won’t even begin to cover the arrears. Looks like my lord will have to dip into the office funds to make up the difference. People think we constables are greedy scoundrels, but what a colossal misunderstanding!”
He sighed heavily, rising from his seat. “These taxes are mandated by the Ming Empire—what do they have to do with us? If even a single coin ends up in our pockets, may the heavens strike me down! On the contrary, when taxes can’t be collected, we and our lord have to pay out of our own pockets, lest we commit treason!”
He turned to the villagers. “So, dear folks, stop panicking.”
His gaze swept across the crowd, and he laughed. “You’d do better to pay your taxes honestly than to resort to knives and violence. Liu Sanyin, take that knife out of your pants before you slip and cut something off!”
Walking boldly among the villagers, the head constable ignored their glares and continued, “My men and I are all Xiucai—scholars who’ve passed the county exams and received the blessings of the True God, forming our divine embryos. You’re no match for us. Why bring disaster upon yourselves? Put down your knives. Let’s resolve this peacefully.”
Behind him, the constables activated their Heavenly Heart True Qi Technique. Radiant halos appeared behind their heads, and small, solemn altars materialized, each housing a divine embryo. The scene exuded an air of majesty and power.
The villagers of Fangdian, faces ashen, reluctantly set down their cleavers and axes.
The head constable motioned for his men to begin collecting taxes door-to-door. Meanwhile, he leisurely strolled over to the talisman stall of Chen Shi and his grandfather.
Grandfather had already prepared the tax money and handed it over, saying, “Master Lu, you’re quite formidable.”
The head constable, whose name was Lu Tiannan, clearly recognized Grandfather. He accepted the talisman tax with a smile. “Not at all, just doing the empire’s work. You’re still strong and healthy, Old Chen. I suspect I’ll be collecting your talisman taxes for many more years to come.”
Suddenly, Lu Tiannan’s nose twitched. He sniffed the air, his expression shifting as he detected a faint stench.
“Corpse rot,” he muttered inwardly, alarmed.
His gaze fell on Chen Shi, and his face darkened. “Old Chen, is this the boy? The one who was once the top prodigy across fifty provinces—the child scholar?”
Grandfather said nothing.
Lu Tiannan quickly took a few steps back, increasing the distance between himself and Chen Shi. He scrutinized the boy from head to toe, then chuckled darkly. “Remarkable. Truly remarkable, Old Chen! You’ve tampered with the secrets of heaven, accomplishing the impossible! But remember, don’t break the law. If you do, and you fall into my hands…”
With that, he turned and left.
Chen Shi looked puzzled. “Why does this
Six Gates
officer seem so afraid of me? Grandfather, was I really once the top child scholar in fifty provinces?”
“There’s no need to dwell on the past,” Grandfather replied curtly.
He unfolded yellow paper, prepared red cinnabar ink with the mortar and pestle, and gestured for Heiguo—the black dog—to come closer. Heiguo whimpered pitifully, tucked his tail, and reluctantly approached.
“Slash!”
Grandfather made a quick cut, drawing a line on Heiguo’s neck. Chen Shi immediately grabbed a small basin to collect the black dog’s blood. A moment later, Grandfather tossed a piece of exotic meat to Heiguo, who scurried under the cart to eat and nurse its wound, a mixture of pain and satisfaction.
The grandfather and grandson continued their business at the market, crafting talismans and selling them.
Meanwhile, the county constables were collecting taxes door-to-door, throwing Fangdian Village into chaos. There was yelling, crying, and the occasional sound of dishes breaking.
Amid the commotion, some villagers still found time to visit the talisman stall.
Chen Shi and his grandfather stayed busy for hours. Suddenly, Heiguo barked twice. Grandfather looked up at the sky, set down his brush, and said, “It’s time to leave.”
Chen Shi glanced skyward. The twin suns were still high, showing no sign of setting.
The two packed up the stall, boarded their wooden cart, and set off. As they left the village, Chen Shi’s gaze lingered on the shrine under the ancient elm tree. The girl on the altar remained motionless, as serene as ever.
Back in Fangdian, the county constables were loading up the taxes onto four carts. Some were securing horse talismans to the horses’ legs to speed up their journey.
“Hurry up!” Lu Tiannan barked. “We must return to the county before dark! Tomorrow, we move on to the next village.”
One constable joked, “Sir, there’s plenty of time left. Why the rush?”
Lu Tiannan shook his head. “The countryside isn’t like the county town. In the town, no
Evil Ones
appear at night, but here? They’re everywhere. Few can harm us, true, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
The wooden cart rattled along, carrying the grandfather and grandson six or seven miles away from the village. Grandfather sorted through the herbs he had purchased—poisonous snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and other menacing items. There were also suspicious-looking plants among the mix.
Chen Shi grimaced.
So this is what I have to eat for dinner.
As they rode on, Grandfather suddenly looked up at the sky, his expression darkening. “Something’s wrong. Nightfall is coming fifteen minutes earlier than usual!”
Chen Shi followed his gaze. The twin suns in the sky, once round and brilliant, were now elongating into slits as their “eyelids” slowly closed.
It was the sign of the Outer True God closing its eyes—night was imminent.
“Did Heiguo delay warning us by fifteen minutes?” Chen Shi looked suspiciously at the black dog leading the way.
Grandfather also glanced at Heiguo. “Possibly. The suns don’t set early. This mistake falls squarely on Heiguo.”
Heiguo barked in protest, his tone aggrieved.
Chen Shi suggested, “Grandfather, this dog isn’t reliable anymore, but its meat is still fresh.”
Grandfather nodded solemnly. “If it miss the time again, we’ll have dog stew.”
Heiguo tucked his tail between his legs, lamenting his difficult life.
In moments, the sky was ablaze with fiery light, a prelude to nightfall. Despite their haste, it was clear they wouldn’t make it back to Huangpo Village before dark.
Chen Shi scanned the surroundings, then pointed to the left side of the road in delight. “There’s a temple over there!”
Grandfather followed his gaze. Sure enough, a small, dilapidated temple stood atop a nearby hill.
“Do you recall seeing this hill or temple when we passed this way earlier?” Grandfather asked suddenly.
Chen Shi thought back carefully and gasped. “No! It was flat land before—there was no hill, no temple!”
The hill looked as if it had sprung up from the ground, with the ancient temple atop it. It seemed that the entire structure, along with the hill itself, had been buried underground, only to be unearthed as the hill grew and pushed it out.
This bizarre phenomenon was unlike anything Chen Shi had ever seen or heard of.
“We’ll spend the night in that temple,” Grandfather decided.
He adjusted his compass, and their wooden cart trundled up the slope.
The temple was in utter disrepair. The ground was littered with shattered tiles, broken blue bricks, collapsed archways, and toppled stone pillars. Its roof was full of gaping holes, offering little protection from the elements.
Grandfather retrieved his ink, brushes, paper, and carving knife. Dutiful as ever, Heiguo approached, only to be stabbed once more. The black dog whimpered pitifully, clutching a piece of exotic meat in its jaws as it limped off to a corner to nurse its wounds while eating.
Chen Shi didn’t assist his grandfather. Instead, he busied himself picking up wooden planks from the ground and nailing them into place to cover the broken doors and windows.
The wooden door latch had rotted away, but outside there was a massive boulder weighing hundreds of pounds. As Chen Shi prepared to call Grandfather for help, he decided to try lifting it himself. Surprisingly, he found it light and manageable, and he single-handedly rolled the boulder into the temple to block the entrance.
Looking up at the dilapidated roof, Chen Shi bent his knees and leaped. To his shock, he nearly reached the roof’s height.
Stunned for a moment, he quickly calmed himself.
If I can jump this high, surely I can land safely without worrying about breaking my bones.
Gripping a nearby pillar for support, he slid down smoothly.
Gathering more materials, Chen Shi managed to patch up the temple roof just as night fell.
Meanwhile, Grandfather finished painting peachwood talismans and hung them on the patched doors, windows, and roof. Then he began building a fire to prepare their "dinner," which was really another medicinal soup brewed with the herbs they had purchased earlier.
Suddenly, the sound of carts and horses broke the silence outside. Peering through a window, Chen Shi saw Lu Tiannan and his constables approaching in the dim moonlight, escorting four carts loaded with taxes.
“Something feels off,” one constable said nervously, glancing skyward. “The suns set too early. We won’t make it back to the county. Should we turn back to Fangdian Village?”
Though they were all cultivators who had reached the Spirit Embryo Realm, they knew the countryside at night was perilous. There were
Evil Ones
so fearsome that even seasoned cultivators could be easily killed.
Lu Tiannan hesitated, then noticed the broken temple. Smiling, he said, “There’s a temple over there. Let’s rest there for the night and continue in the morning.”
The constables agreed and directed their carts toward the temple.
Chen Shi watched from the window. In the pale moonlight, he noticed a small figure trailing behind the cart convoy, holding a bright red apple and eating as it drew closer.
“The
Dry Mother
of Fangdian Village—the little girl from the shrine!”
As the thought crossed his mind, the figure neared one of the constables. Suddenly, the man’s body stiffened, arching backward in a violent spasm.
Snap!
Snap!
Sharp tree branches burst from his chest, spraying blood everywhere.
“Ambush!” Lu Tiannan reacted immediately, summoning divine light that formed a shrine behind him. His Spirit Embryo sat majestically within, and his true energy surged. But before he could counterattack, countless black branches writhed in the moonlight, snaking through the air like venomous serpents.
One branch darted straight for Lu Tiannan’s forehead. He stepped back quickly, but a sharp pain stabbed into his spine.
Crack!
Bones shattered. Blood sprayed as branches pierced through his chest.
“Too fast!”
Lu Tiannan choked on his own blood as it flooded his lungs and throat. He turned his head with difficulty, only to see his comrades falling one after another. Some had barely summoned their Spirit Embryos before being skewered. Others tried to flee but were impaled by roots that erupted from the ground.
Even the horses were not spared, their bodies pierced through by the writhing branches.
As his vision dimmed, Lu Tiannan saw the little girl stepping lightly on the moonlit branches, weaving through the carnage without making a sound. She stopped before him, took a bite of her apple, and examined his face.
“The
Dry Mother
never forsakes the wishes of her children—especially those who offer themselves as sacrifices,” she said softly. “Yes, it was you. I did not kill the wrong people.”
The branches retracted, and the corpses of constables and horses fell to the ground with sickening thuds.